Deathly
by Hammyham9
Summary: Hermione is back for her eighth year at Hogwarts, and to take her NEWTs. Who else will find she find there? Some language. Fluff/Humour/Dramione. Non-epilogue compliant. Please review!


_So I have no idea where this came from, and it is probably wildly OOC, but be gentle with me! In the interests of the canon timeline making sense, please do pretend that GG and Dawson's Creek were made a decade prior (weirdest thing I may have ever typed…)_

If somebody would have ever told Hermione Granger that she would have been sat with Draco Malfoy fervently debating the merits of and shortcomings of Rory's boyfriend's on Gilmore Girls, she would have thought that they had been sniffing glue.

'Urgh, Hermione, how can you be on that snobbish twat's side?'

'How can you not be Team Logan, posh boy? He's your WB doppelganger,' Hermione snorted.

'I resent that! Logan is uncouth, and drinks far too much, and just doesn't deserve Rory. Plus, his blazers are appalling. I have much better taste.'

Hermione rolled her eyes.

'Besides, what is a WB?' Draco looked confused, a cup of hot chocolate halfway to his mouth.

Hermione took a deep breath and settled deeper into the couch. 'So, once upon a time, there was a boy with a creek. That boy's name was Dawson Leery…'

 _Four Months Before_

Hermione had been back at Hogwarts for two months of her eighth year now to finish her NEWTs. She had been told by the Ministry that she could join future training without them, presumably due to her year of finding and destroying Horcruxes, and assisting in the killing of Voldemort, however, she had wanted to return to school. She didn't know what she wanted to do with her life yet, but more importantly, she wanted some normalcy and thought Hogwarts could bring that.

Harry had decided to go straight into his Auror training, and Ron had, rather predictably, followed him. Hermione had initially wanted them to come with her, and still missed them both so much, but in retrospect maybe some time away from them was for the best. They had all been so focussed on eluding capture for the past year that she felt she didn't really know how to act normal anymore, and having them around her seemed to remind her that she might never feel like that again.

Initially, she had thought that with Ron's help they could work through everything together, but she couldn't work out what he wanted, and he seemed so distant lately. She couldn't understand why. They'd been building up to that kiss for years, and then it happened, in a rush of adrenaline…and then what? Nothing. The odd furtive glance from across the room, and a goodbye in which he kissed her on her forehead. Her forehead for goodness sake, like she was bloody Ginny! She was so disappointed. She thought he wanted her like she wanted him, but instead, he was in London, sending her the odd owl in his awful scrawl and as distant as ever.

Things were still strained with her parents, and as much as she loved them, they would never understand what she had been through. She had wanted to protect them and keep them safe, but it had only resulted in a distance that she felt time may never bridge. No, it was better for all of them that she remain here, at Hogwarts.

On her return, she had been made Head Girl. Frankly, she would have been annoyed had she not been asked. She enjoyed the separate bedroom, the en-suite and the fact that she had the freedom to move around the castle whenever she wished, but if she was being honest with herself, it was a bit of a let-down. Keeping over-excited first years in order between classes seemed a bit mundane and pointless, dare she say it, after everything the past year had brought. She wanted to feel something more than double Potions, and rereading books, and making idle chitchat at the Gryffindor table over toast and tea.

Besides, now that Voldemort was defeated, what was there to sneak around over? The only late nights she had now were after staying in the library too late. Which is where she was now, books surrounding her, overlooking her favourite spot by the window overlooking the oak tree that she liked to sit underneath to read when it was warm enough. Which considering that she was in Scotland was only the odd couple of weeks in June. But maybe if she could find a variance on an Everdry charm…

She shook her head, an abundance of far too much hair bouncing around her shoulders as she did so. That would have to wait. First her Transfiguration essay. She leafed through a book, trying to find the right quote, huffing slightly when she couldn't find it. She was sure it was this edition.

Standing up to go hunting for it, she stretched slightly, her shoulders tight from bending over her parchment, and her muscles aching. Moving to the Transfiguration section she quickly found the edition she needed. However, turning to go back to her desk, she instead walked forward into something solid, with a lingering scent of vetiver. Finding herself face to, er, well, chest, she stumbled backwards, bumping slightly into the bookcase and dropping her book on the floor. Up she looked in annoyance to berate whichever idiot clearly didn't know about personal boundaries.

Only to find the last person she expected to see. Draco bastarding Malfoy. She didn't even know he'd be returning to school, noticing that he's not been sat in his usual spot at the Slytherin table, and assuming he must be not bothering with his NEWTs. She'd seen hearing after hearing splashed across the headlines of the Daily Prophet, but she'd not bothered to delve in and read the sordid details. She didn't care for reliving the past few years. Her bad dreams at night did enough of that for her.

She sighed and tensed, waiting for the derogatory remark that she knew would be coming from him. Three, two, one… But nothing came. Wait, why he wasn't saying anything? He was just stood there, looking a bit nervous. He hadn't even brushed his robes down like he would have done prior, frightened her less than pure blood would have somehow defiled him.

She raised her eyebrow, but he still just stood there, a slight blush on his pale skin and his mouth slightly open like a goldfish. Come the fuck on Malfoy, she thought, I still have an essay to finish tonight.

'I-I'm sorry,' he said in a rush, and then in a rush of robes he was gone, her book still on the floor.

What on earth was that? Malfoy, sorry? Wondering of the likelihood of somebody accidentally Polyjuicing themselves to look like him, she bent down to pick up her book, and get back to her studies.


End file.
